


Settlement

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, Discussion of sexual assault, Divorce, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Romance, Slice of Life, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24622318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: The gang adjusts to the arrival of Shirley's child and her return to Laurel Vista, some more easily than others.(a sequel to amythis' "Construction Zone" and part of the Aftershocks universe).
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski, Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski/Andrew "Squiggy" Squiggman, Laverne DeFazio/Shirley Feeney, Shirley Feeney/Andrew "Squiggy" Squiggman
Comments: 57
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amythis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/gifts).



Carmen Debra Meeney - called Debbie to avoid confusing the boys, so Shirley said - liked exactly three things in her very nascent life: the sound of someone, anyone, singing The Littlest Lamb from the Flinstones, breast milk, and Lenny Kosnowski. 

None of them knew exactly why the kid liked Lenny best of the entire team of ragtag aunts and uncles who ringed her life, but all they had to do was deposit the baby into Lenny's arms to make her stop screaming.

The development frustrated her already exhausted mother, disappointed her Aunt Laverne, for whom rapport with the infant remained elusive, and met with Squiggy's indifference. Lenny himself took this development with a modicum of sanguine, hippie-like calm, though she was definitely cutting into his free time with Laverne and Squiggy

"Why don't this work on grown-up girls?" he asked, watching Debbie sleep against his chest, her little fist clenching and unclenching against his skin, dangerously close to the skinny strand of elastic holding his love beads together. The words would often earn him a kick in the shins from Laverne.

But Lenny wasn’t the object of Laverne’s ire at the moment. She watched Squiggy march back and forth across the floor of her apartment and let out a low sigh. “Squig, stop complaining, you’re gonna scare the baby.”

Squiggy pivoted on the heel of his Chuck Taylors. “Scare the baby?!” he laughed. “That kid’s got a constituent of iron!” 

She rolled her eyes. “Just sit down and watch TV with us, eh? You’re making the reception all fuzzy.” Squiggy rolled his eyes and sat down beside her, putting both of his feet up on the coffee table. He pecked her once on the cheek and a smile brightened his face for just a minute. 

But then his expression darkened. “That woman’s driving me crazy,” Squiggy said.

Laverne rolled her eyes. “Shirley always drove you crazy,” she said. “Now she’s just doing it with her kid.”

“But it’s different!” he slapped his knee. “That woman is running herself right to China and she ain’t listening to any of us! It ain’t fair to the kid, and it ain’t fair to us!”

“Squig, you know Shirl ain’t as proud as me,” Laverne said. “But she’s got her own dignity. Believe me, I tried to talk her into staying home. I told her she could stay here with Debbie for as long as she needed to. Even told her I could support her. But ever since she got that notice from Walter’s lawyer she’s been losing her mind trying to prove she’s a good mom.” JAG hasn’t been very nice to her best friend, and Walter, between Shirley's sudden abandonment and her choice to name her daughter after he ex-boyfriend, had indicated he might be interested in suing for full custody. “Thankfully, Pop’s made a lotta lawyer friends thanks to his councilman stuff. She’s got good people looking after her, but this is the only way she knows how to take care of the whole deal.” And, Laverne thought, that had kept him blessedly distracted while the boys had spent most of their time at Laverne’s apartment, helping her care for Debbie. 

“You’re just mad ‘cause you ain’t gotten none in weeks,” Lenny said to Squiggy.

“That ain’t true!” Squiggy said, though Laverne knew Lenny had made an accurate statement. Laverne’s nights had become rather less exciting since Debbie had come along, but Laverne didn’t mind the trade-off – which she hoped was temporary. Sex had become something grabbed and arranged quickly, whenever Shirley was with the baby, and whenever they had the energy. And they didn’t often have the energy. “And anyway, don’t talk dirty in front of the baby!”

“I ain’t talking dirty! I cleaned it up! If I were talking dirty, I woulda said we ain’t f-“

“Len,” Laverne said. Her tone of voice was enough to shut him up instantly. He shot her his best puppydog look, and she sighed and ran a hand through his long blond hair. The best thing about his growing it out was that he had to wash it more frequently and brush it every day, so it was surprisingly silky against Laverne’s palm. 

He leaned into her touch, and Debbie leaned into him. Laverne caught sight of Lenny holding gently on to the girl’s toes, tickling them, and smiled. Lenny was being such a good uncle – he’d be an amazing dad. She paused still at the thought and wondered where it had come from. 

Laverne shook her head to clear it away. She loved Lenny, sure, much more than as a lover or friend at this point. But they were both into Squiggy, too – if not romantically, than as a friend and sexually. She was getting conventional and ruining everything.

The front door swung open, admitting Shirley in her Bardwell’s jacket. The department store had miraculously given her best friend her job back – apparently on the condition that she not bring Laverne with her after the display window disaster. Which was less than gratifying to Laverne’s ego. “I’m finally back, and I cashed my check..” She paused and headed to her daughter, reaching out for her, but hesitating to make that final physical connection. He hand dropped to her side. “How has Debbie been?”

“Swell,” Lenny said. “I made up a lullaby for her, and she took her bottle down real easy.” 

“Thank you, Leonard. Can you carry her up to our apartment?” Shirley asked Lenny.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be back in a minute, Laverne.” Gingerly, Lenny stood and headed to the front door. Shirley and Debbie had moved into Carmine’s vacant unit upstairs, and Shirley had barely had time to set her things up, or do more than collapse into bed every night. It looked like a less organized version of the boys’ old Milwaukee digs in there, but much cleaner. 

“How was work?” Shirley asked Laverne awkwardly. 

“Swell. Hey Shirl, do you have time to get lunch with me on Friday?” Laverne had an ulterior motive, and she wanted to make sure that they were alone so she could enact it.

“I don’t know. I’ve been clocking double time just so I can afford the extra attorneys fees.”

“I promise I’ll pay,” Laverne said.

“You need someone to look after you, Shirl,” Squiggy said. And he gave her one of those meaningful, steamy, soap opera looks, of the sort that usually repulsed Shirley. 

“I’m doing just fine by myself,” she said prissily. “I’ll see you on Friday, Laverne. I have my weekly call with Carmine on Saturday, so everything should be fine and free this weekend.”

“Okay,” Laverne took a deep breath and sighed. She had no idea if she should kiss Shirley, or hug her - especially because Lenny had been in a state of shell-shock in regard to their making out in front of him. Lenny had been in a state of paranoia about Shirley's involvement in their lives. He was taking care of Shirley’s baby, and now Shirley wanted to “steal” his woman. No wonder his hippie beliefs had been tested lately, and no wonder he'd been clingy. But she didn't plan on leaving him for Shirley. Not ever.

She and Shirley had to talk about that. They had to talk about a lot of things.

Shirley reached out and gave Laverne a headlock of a hug –usually Lenny’s domain. “Thank you, Laverne. I appreciate it.”

With that, she let go and was upstairs. 

In the silence between Debbie’s first, panicked cry and the sound of Lenny’s footfall on the stairs, Squiggy turned to Laverne.

“We’re in so much fucking trouble,” he said.

Indeed, they were.


	2. Chapter 2

Shirley let out a low, deep sigh as she sat down in her living room, on a couch loaded with boxes she hadn’t gathered the strength to put away yet. There was something strange about occupying what was once Carmine’s space without him being there, something weird about having to deal with his ghost while speaking with him weekly.

She glanced at Debbie and made a move to touch her but hesitated as she sucked contentedly on her pacifier. The little girl hadn’t bonded with her at all, though Shirley had tried to be motherly, had desperately hoped to at least improve upon Lillian Feeney’s track record. Instead, she was in love with Lenny, of all people.

But it was, she decided, a fair assessment of her own problems when it came to love. She was attracted to Laverne – had probably always been, even back when she kissed her for the first time when Laverne had been about ready to land that plane in Milwaukee - but was aware that being attracted to Laverne wasn’t fair of her. Shirley had popped up out of the blue and slipped herself into Laverne’s triangulated situation with the boys, and understandably it was causing strife. Lenny had become more clingy toward Laverne, and her best friend had been less than amenable to being clung to by any man. On top of that, Laverne was battling something foreign to Shirley that couldn’t be spoken of out loud, which meant it was a deep tissue trauma. Shirley felt nothing but fear for Laverne at this point. But then again, she felt a deep, soul-scratching fear for a lot of Laverne’s sudden but completely in-character choices lately. 

Chief among them was whatever was happening with Laverne and the boys. While she seemed content with the emotional intimacy Laverne had with Lenny and the physical intimacy she had with Squiggy (and whatever crossover emotional baggage she had gathered between the two relationships), but keeping three volatile personalities happy might not be healthy for any of them in the long run. 

Then there was the complexity of Shirley’s feelings for Squiggy, too. He’d been kinder to her than he’d normally been in the past, cautious, and worried about the amount of time she was spending away from Debbie at work. His solicitousness had her curious – and she had no way of knowing if he, in typical Squiggy fashion, was angling for something.

She couldn’t call her feelings for Walter complex – the man she’d married because he’d impregnated her during their single, impulsive date had done nothing but earn her enmity lately. He hadn’t been happy that she’d left Germany entirely, a place he couldn’t leave due to his posting, and he’d been angry that she’d named their daughter after Carmine. He said that her behavior hinted that she might not be a stable mother for their daughter, and that he ought to have full custody. Well, she wasn’t about to let that stand.

And then there was Carmine. Carmine who she had named her daughter after. Carmine, the guy she talked to twice a week. Carmine, the only oasis of sanity in the upheaval of her life. No wonder she had gravitated toward him for safety and comfort, even though he was busy enjoying everything that New York had to offer, from the girls to the drugs. It was, after all, a time of free love. A time that Shirley had not been equipped by her mother to face, much less thrive in.

She jumped at the sudden knock on her door, which woke Debbie and got her to crying. Shirley picked up the baby and pressed her to her chest, rocking Debbie against her body as fury gripped her. She ripped the door open, prepared to start yelling at whoever was on the other end, only to stop short. "Whoever's on the other end of this thing deserves a punch!"

"Hello," offered a too-familiar voice.

“Squiggy?” He knew better than to knock when Debbie was napping. But when was the last time he'd ever tried to knock on her door instead of just barging right in?

“Who else y’think it was? The pope?” she let him into the room and he glanced at the baby. “Hey Shirl, your kid’s crying.”

“Yes, Andrew, I couldn’t tell.”

Her sarcastic tone bounced off of his little pea brain, as it always did. “Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here.” He pushed inside and grabbed a box, then upended its contents on the couch.

“What one earth are you doing?” she snapped.

“What does it look like? Helping you move in!”

“Andrew, I don’t need you, of all people, acting as my personal organizer.”

He straightened his spine and glared over at her. “Oh yeah? Then why ain’t you done moving in yet?” 

“My daughter is two months old and I’m in the middle of a messy divorce!” 

He shrugged. “My mother moved me and my sister all the way across the country and she had six different boyfriends when she divorced my pop.” Shirley grumbled at this revelation. “Wouldya just shut up and let me help you?”

She weighed her options for just a minute. Squiggy would never leave it alone if she rejected his help and would probably do something horrible to her possessions if she didn’t direct his aggression. 

“All right.” Shirley surrendered, and held her daughter as she fell back into a fitful sleep.

Much later, when the apartment looked habitable and her daughter slept silently in her crib, Shirley gave Squiggy a glass of water and a meager sandwich made from what was left in the refrigerator. “Why did you do that for me?” she asked him.

“You needed the help,” he said, finishing the sandwich and water in two gulps. Then he handed her the plate back. “I ain’t blind, y’know. I can see you wiggling around like an octopus stuck in an air vent…”

“Squiggy!”

“I do and I did and I does,” he said. Then he got up from the table, leaving the crumbs behind for her to deal with. “You need looking after,” he proclaimed, probably the only time he’d ever said such a thing to any woman in his life. Shirley stood behind, astonished in her own kitchen, and watched him walk away after that declaration.

The proclamation that she could take care of herself died away on her lips as he left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Laverne tried to avoid lingering in the parking lot of Bardwells for too long as she waited for Shirley to emerge from her shift. While her best friend may have been forgiven for her bird-based indiscretions, Laverne knew she had not been, and was not willing to be swept off to jail just for standing too close to the building. With that in mind, Laverne sat on the bus stop bench and tried to stoop down a little so she wouldn’t be recognizable. There was something weird about being there now, almost a full year after she’d acted like a literal chicken in the store’s front window; out of spite, she deliberately shopped other places like Sears and Montgomery Ward’s, and so did her Pop and most of her friends. She could say a lot of things about Frank De Fazio, but he was nothing if not loyal to his daughter in the wake of Edna’s betrayal and departure.

She tried to shut out her fear of being discovered. It was going to be a good day, damn it. She was going to take Shirl out for their long-promised lunch, and Laverne was planning on doing everything up to the nines – she’d found a very nice luncheonette near the department store, where Shirley could eat daintily and they could talk in private. 

Laverne smiled as Shirley cut across the hot pitch of the lot, her Bardwells uniform as crisply pressed as it always was. Laverne still sported her own Ajax uniform, and as unflattering as it looked, it was the fanciest thing she owned, beyond her mother’s diamond earrings. 

Automatically, Shirley reached over to kiss Laverne’s cheek, but then she sank back and looked abashed. “Did you bring the ice cream truck?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s in the lot.” The two women walked together to the vehicle, and Shirley let Laverne drive them to the luncheonette without further comment. Laverne maneuvered awkwardly through the midday traffic while Shirley told her extravagantly long tales of her day. The words poured over Laverne, and she felt at home. It took her back to her twenties, when life was less complicated, filled with brown bag meatloaf sandwiches and hot dates with handsome guys from the yeast department. 

But she wouldn’t give up her new relationship with Lenny and Squiggy for anything – or her what-is-even-happening relationship with Shirley. As she parked the ice cream truck and entered the luncheonette, they stuck close together, and she told Shirley to order whatever she wanted while getting herself some tomato soup and a cheese sandwich.

“So,” Shirley said, swizzling her straw through the bubbles filling her glass of Pepsi as their waitress came by with their orders, her pink-checked uniform in place and her smile Pepsodent professional. “I know you want to talk about…what happened before Debbie was born,” she said. “Maybe we should start there?”

“Yeah,” Laverne said. “Look Shirl, I know things are weird right now, but I love Lenny. I need you to know that I do, before we consider changing anything else about our own relationship.”

Shirley nodded. “How do you feel about Squiggy?”

Laverne shrugged. “We pull each other’s hair. He teases me and I tease him. The sex is great, but it’s not serious.”

Shirley’s face showed relief, even as she winced at the idea of Laverne having sex with Squig. Laverne wondered why – sure, Squiggy had been hanging out at her place more frequently, but surely that didn’t mean anything. Squiggy had always wanted to be with Shirley, and Shirley had always looked over his poor greasy head to the next doctor or lawyer, horrified by the idea of ending up with him. She’d been spending more time on the phone with Carmine lately, and Laverne had presumed that they’d end up finding their way back together, the way they always did.

“We’ll move slowly. If at all,” Shirley said. And that was her practical best friend at work once again. “But something more important’s going on here, isn’t it?”

She bit her sandwich and chewed it deliberately, to give herself extra time to think. “Like?” she said lamely, sprinkling crumbs on the counter.

Shirley grabbed her free hand. “I know something happened while I was gone. But what?”

She had a scripted answer in the back of her head, had prepared it months ago when Shirley came back to Burbank. She didn’t get to read it. Instead, she noticed a dark shape in the doorway of the luncheonette – broad shoulders, blue-black hair. An easy smile. 

Laverne’s eyes flew wide open.

It was the sailor who had bid on her. The man who had claimed her on the deck of the air craft carrier, with hundreds of other men watching, stroking themselves, yelling out comments on her behavior and body.

“Take me home,” Laverne said, her fingers tightening against Shirley’s fingertips.

She couldn’t see her best friend’s expression beyond the blinding heat of her panic, but instinctively knew she must look haunted, spooked. “What? What’s going on?”

“Take me home. Now,” She grabbed her purse and threw a wad of fives at the counter, dragging Shirley away and out the side door, toward the ice cream truck. 

By the time they were halfway home, she was hyperventilating. Shirley offered to take her to the hospital, but Laverne shook her head. 

She didn’t feel better until she was over the threshold of her own front door and in Lenny’s clinging arms. Then oxygen gushed out of her lungs, and she let herself be held, limp and weak, for a few minutes.

When she came back to herself, she could hear an argument brewing. “What did you do to her?” Lenny snapped, his arms tight around Laverne’s waist.

“What did **I** do?” Shirley snapped. “She started panicking and she can’t tell me why. Lenny, you have to help me – tell me what’s going on. Help me and I can help her!”

“Get out,” Lenny said. There was fury in his face, his stiff posture and his flashing blue eyes, that Laverne hadn’t seen since he and Squiggy had fought over Lenny’s relationship with Karen Caldwell. 

“You have my daughter!” Shirley said.

“I’ll give her back to you later! Out!” Lenny’s hand jabbed the air, his other arm holding Laverne tight.

It was okay. She was safe. He’d block the whole world out and swallow the moon for her.

And only the sound of her front door slamming caused Laverne’s heart to unclench. Tears came unbidden to her eyes and spilled over, allowing her to purge herself of her embarrassment, her fear.


	4. Chapter 4

Shirley paced the floor of her small apartment, unable to figure out what had gone wrong and why. They’d been having a perfectly peaceful lunch when Laverne had panicked out of the blue. She tried to think of what she’d seen in the small restaurant, make sense out of what had gone down, but reason eluded her.

She groaned as she thought of little Debbie alone down there with Lenny. What on earth was she going to do? Why was this mess her fault, when there were so many more horrifying creatures walking the face of God’s green earth?

The door to her apartment predictably slammed open. “Hello!” Squiggy said.

Shirley glared at him. “Your timing is astronomically bad.”

“I don’t care about donkeys,” said Squiggy. “Shirley Feeney Meeney,” he said heavily, “it ain’t your fault.”  


The words – coming from Squiggy, of all people – burst the damn inside of Shirley’s chest. “Laverne’s in pain,” she said. “And I know she’s in pain but she won’t talk to me. Why won’t she?”

“Ain’t my place to tell you,” Squiggy said. “I know if I did she’d punch me in the mush, and I care too much about my good looks to risk it.” 

“Did you come all the way up here just to make fun of me?” she sniffled.

“I’m trying to help,” he snapped.

“How in the world is this helping?” she asked him.

“Because you gotta know, Shirl – you ain’t no crumb. Laverne’s been doing great since..that stuff happened to her…but she…we can’t be all the help she needs, and I can’t be the guy to tell her secret. She’s gotta figure everything out on her own.”

“Thank you, Andrew. Believe it or not, you’ve been very helpful.” Shirley watched him leave the apartment and sank down to her couch with a sigh.

“Sure,” he snorted. Then he glanced over his shoulder – at Shirley waiting there, looking at him. 

She shook her head as he quietly closed the door. 

*** 

A few hours later, Laverne arrived with Debbie and her baby bag. Her eyes were still all blotchy from the crying she’d done by herself, and when Shirley tried to speak up Laverne said quickly, “we gotta sit down and talk about this. Now.”

Shirley took her daughter into her arms and felt Debbie shift fussily against her touch. “Laverne, I don’t know what…”

She was pacing. “Shirl, I…you gotta promise you won’t hate me.”

“Why would I ever hate you?” Shirley asked.

Laverne took a deep breath. “I met these people at work. Y’know, they were the kinda folks we used to hang out with back at Shotz – they really like to party. So I went out with them one Friday night, and I got…I got really drunk,” she said thickly. “And I ain’t been that way in a real long time. I left the party with a couple of sailors, drunk out of my mind. I blacked out. The next thing I remember…” She took a deep breath. “Was waking up with my stockings torn and my blouse wrecked. I was dirty and scratched up. They told me later that they drew lots for me, and then one of them…while I was asleep…in front of all of them…”

And Shirley couldn’t stop herself from cutting through the din in the back of her head. “They raped you?” Shirley asked, sounding again like a small child, sounding again like she was lost.


	5. Chapter 5

Laverne shook her head. “It wasn’t rape.”

“Were you unimpaired enough to say yes?” Laverne shook her head. “Do you remember much of anything of what happened?” Laverne nodded. “Did they bruise you? Hold you down? Rip your clothes? Care if you experienced anything remotely amounting to pleasure during the act?” a shame-filled nod, followed by a shake of the head. “Laverne, if you couldn’t say no, then that man raped you.”

“No…no, I mean, it’s my fault. I mean, it was on an aircraft carrier, Shirl, with all those guys, and everyone knows I’m nuts for sailors,” she said. “What kind of woman goes to an aircraft carrier drunk out of her mind and expects to leave with her pants on?”

Shirley shook her head, reaching out and touching Laverne’s shoulder with her free hand, making her stop. “Any normal woman would. A fellow who’s chivalrous, who’s kind –he wouldn’t hurt a woman that way.”

“But…I asked for it,” Laverne said. “The nuns, they said…”

“Laverne, you asked for nothing,” Shirley’s eyes snapped, and she cradled Debbie closer to her chest. What kind of world had she brought her daughter into? What kind of person did Laverne think she was? “This isn’t 1959 Milwaukee. Nuns are wonderful people, but they’re human beings. They could be wrong.”

“It ain’t like I don’t have a track record,” Laverne said to the wall. The burning shame in her voice made Shirley want to cry.

“Laverne,” she said soft, “if you’d gotten pregnant from what happened in that vat at Shotz it wouldn’t have been your fault. And what happened to you that day isn’t your fault, either. I want to sue the navy,” she growled. Laverne was crying as she turned around, but a smile broke through at that declaration. This was her best friend. The person who always…Shirley let go of Laverne and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh God, I’m an awful friend,” Shirley said. “I didn’t realize…that’s why you called me, and why you did it with the boys here. You wanted them in case I couldn’t…” Laverne nodded. “Oh Laverne, I would never blame you. I know I didn’t approve of some of your boyfriends, or some of your behavior, but I never wanted…I’m so sorry…” Then she realized, “Carmine knew first?”

“I told my Pop, too. I couldn’t keep something like that from him.” Laverne sounded emotionally depleted, and Shirley couldn’t blame her.

“I’m so sorry,” Shirley said. “I should’ve been here. I never should have left with Walter…”

“You had a right to live your life, Shirl,” Laverne said. “I’m sorry stuff didn’t work out with him, but you were happy for a little while.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s all right. I’d say I made a bad choice,” she smiled at Debbie, “but I’m too glad that she’s here. I guess nothing’s wasted time in the end.” Shirley reached out for Laverne as she rested her head on her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to…”

“We were LAMPS, Shirl,” Laverne said. “We know how cops treat rape cases.”

Shirley hissed at this puncturing of her innocence, but nodded. For a long time, they did nothing. Then little Debbie reached out for Shirley’s hand and patted it. 

“I just realized something,” Laverne said.

“What?” Shirley asked.

“This is the first time you’ve held on to Debbie for this long without her crying for Len or me.”

“Huh,” Shirley remarked. Tears came to her eyes as Debbie stared up at her. Maybe it had been Shirley’s anxiety about motherhood that had put off the baby. Maybe it had been her distracted fear - her inability to achieve the affection she yearned for. Either way – Debbie seemed to be relaxed for the first time in her mother’s presence.

“Can you hug me?” Laverne asked. “I’m gonna need someone to cry on for a few minutes.”

“Long as I can cry on you for just as long,” Shirley said. “You aren’t the only one who feels mixed up.”

And the two friends leaned on one another, letting all of the fear and hurt seep out of them.


	6. Chapter 6

A couple of hours later, Laverne went home to Lenny and the comfort of her quieter apartment, and Shirley fed her daughter, changed her, and then rocked her to sleep in her cradle. Shirley then settled into the living room with a grunt and a sandwich and a glass of milk and ate in complete solitude. After, she turned on her set and let Johnny Carson wash away her blues.

When a knock sounded at the door, she was surprised to see Squiggy standing behind it. 

The man didn’t give her the chance to greet him. “So you know the truth?” He looked uncomfortable, but then again Squiggy had never seemed at ease in his own skin.

“Yes,” she said. “I do, Andrew.”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “We tried to get her to squeal to the cops, but she don’t think it’ll do any good. Most of the time she’s fine, but she saw the guy wherever you went today. It made her go out of her head for awhile.” 

Shirley could only wince. God, everything made even more sense now – the panic, the way her best friend had fled. She tried to remember the tall, handsome guy in the doorway, but he was nondescript, another muscle man with dark hair and a mustache. “I apologized. Now I understand everything.” Shirley said. “Thank you for looking out for her. And I’ll thank Leonard at some point as well.” 

“Ain’t no big deal. So what? So I was nice to her.” When she tried to close the door, he put his hand into the doorjam and kept it from shutting. “I keep saying she ain’t the only one who needs help for a reason.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Squiggy cocked his head at her. He looked ready to get into a fist fight, which was the last thing Shirley wanted to do at any point, and especially with him.

He shuffled his feet and stuck his hands into his pockets. “It means you need looking after,” he blurted out. 

Then he grabbed her by the forearms and kissed her soundly, silencing Shirley, surprising her by curling her toes in her shoes. All of the rationalizations she’d made about Squiggy – that her attraction toward him during her pregnancy had been hormonal, that he was involved with Laverne and Lenny and she didn’t want to be involved in the messy situation or relationship - disappeared and dissolved. Her life was a terrible muddle right now – she ought not to be involving anyone in it, not when she had a small child and too many things to deal with, too much to untangle. 

But here he was – a man who understood her burdens and saw what she had to shoulder on a daily basis. And he wasn’t running away at all.

When he straightened his lapels and walked away from her, she realized that Andrew Squiggman had definitely muddied her picture perfect image of life in California even further.


End file.
